


video killed the radio star

by diwata



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25992283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diwata/pseuds/diwata
Summary: Sakura is a study vlogger preparing for the National Medical Practitioners Qualifying Examination. Sasuke is a gunner law student. Naruto is attention-starved.“Is this your kink? Twelve-hour long study videos? Not shaming you, obviously, if that’s what you like, I mean, me and my boyfriend have done some weird shit.”
Relationships: Gaara/Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 36
Kudos: 161





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another Tumblr post turns into a lighthearted modern AU. When historians look back, they might find this niche timepiece and remember what it was like to live in the time of the COVID pandemic and quarantine.
> 
> Heads up: This story has a sprinkle of NaruGaa, instead of the standard NaruHina.

The glass white board in the corner of Sakura’s room is well-loved, but not nearly as much as her foldable exercise bike that she fondly calls Old Girl or her color-coded standing desk, which is littered with floral post-its and highlighters from the discount office supply store Kizashi has worked at since she was little. The medical student pulls her long bob back into a short ponytail before taking a sip of her green smoothie. She studies her tasks for the day, neatly listed on the board’s right hand corner, before setting up her tripod and microphone. As the medical student mounts the bike, she nods at the camera adjacent to the wall, balancing on the windowsill next to her gerbera.

“Hello everyone, thanks for tuning into my livestream! I know many of my fellow classmates miss the company of other students in the library, so I decided to upload Study With Me videos once a week.” Sakura adjusts the gears on her stationary bike. “Now, you might be wondering, why is she working out if this is a study video?” She taps twice on her left earbud and straightens the tablet on the Old Girl’s book stand. “In 2012, a group of scientists conducted a study and found that aerobic exercise improves memory and cognition. There have been at least ten subsequent studies confirming the experiment’s results. Incorporating half an hour of cardio at the start of your study routine can make a huge difference! It’s super easy, just put on a review video to watch while you get your fitness in.” She flashes a bright smile at the camera before directing her attention towards the instructional video. “You can follow along with me as I go through different review modules after I edit this and add the aerial view, by the way. Fellow medical students, let’s do our best!”

Sakura slides off the tall seat after the video’s done, reaching downwards to touch her ankles. “And it goes without saying, don’t forget to stretch.” Following her own advice, she stretches her quads, pressing her heel to the back of her thigh. Satisfied by the pull she feels, she strolls over to her desk and grabs a pack of index cards. “I’m writing down points from the video and supplementing with the notes I took last night.” Her left hand waves an orange index card in front of the lens while her right thoughtfully raps her pen against the table. “I have a ranking system for index cards based on difficulty. Green is easy, orange is moderate, and red is difficult. I sort out the green cards after my initial runthrough so I can focus on the more complex material.”

Two-thirds through her second review of the deck, Ino barges into Sakura’s room with an impressive amount of force, almost sending the camera toppling over. “Forehead, where the fu--” the blonde begins, about to launch into a lecture on the importance of letting one’s roommate and best friend know before borrowing what constitutes half of her entire wardrobe without her express permission. Then, observing the tripod and steadying its wobbling legs, tries again, more politely, “Sakura, where is the dress I wore on my birthday last year? I’m bringing it to Sai’s.”

“Are you planning on going out or something? All the clubs are closed.” The pink-haired woman flings the dress at her roommate, whose carefully filled in brows twitch in annoyance. “Because of the global pandemic, just in case you weren’t aware.”

“Extremely aware, which is why I’m leaving to quarantine with my loving boyfriend of four years, thank you very much, _Forehead_ ,” the blonde snarks back. “Not that you would be able to understand.” She leans on the table by the mic. “What’s this new thing you’re trying, anyway?”

“I’m livestreaming my study session today on YouTube, you can say hi!”

Ino drums her fingers on the wooden desk and moves her mouth close to the mic. “Like, ASMR?” she whispers into the head. “Is this doing it for you? Do you feel calm now? I’m cleansing your energy.”

A deep scowl settles on the pink-haired woman’s face. “Don’t breathe on the mic. Actually--” Sakura crosses her arms against her chest-- “don’t breathe near me, I’m studying!”

“I’ll sneeze on your toothbrush,” the blonde declares decisively, grabbing the potted flower and stalking off down the hallway in the direction of their shared bathroom. 

The medical student eyes her timer, weighing the priority of studying for her medical licensing exam against protecting her toothbrush’s honor, the former and her strict devotion to the Pomodoro method winning out measurably. For hours, she drills practice questions and smears her calculations across her board in black-gray dry erase marker. By the time Sakura loops her flashcards for the second module around a ring holder and places them in their proper location in her growing index card collection, she realizes that the Sun has set already. She completes her regimen for module three between bites of a microwave-ready dinner and signs off cheerfully, wishing her viewers well.

* * *

“That’s all for today! If you made it this far, thanks for watching. See you next week!”

Sasuke studies in monochrome, stacks of outlines and print-out exam questions in black and white. The law student does not work out while he pours over casebooks and doctrine; instead, he goes on a sprint on weekdays each morning at the break of dawn and a light jog on the weekends long after sunset. Frankly, he thinks the study vlogger must be half-insane to exercise while studying, and finds her argument in favor of it weak and nonsensical. Studying in itself, to Sasuke, is a kind of aerobic activity, reminiscent of his days as a college athlete. On his tidy desk, he keeps: a comically large bottle of water; loaded energy bars; and clear sticky tabs he uses to annotate his rulebooks.

The Uchiha emerges from his bedroom for the second time that day for dinner, bumping into his nosy roommate in the kitchen. “Sasuke,” the blond complains, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, “why do you need to stay holed up in that room for twelve hours every day? I’m an _extrovert_ , I need human interaction!”

“I’m studying. As you should be, idiot.” Sasuke pokes at one particularly stubborn gyoza that sticks to the bottom of the pan with the ends of his long chopsticks. “Talk to your boyfriend.”

Naruto frowns at him. “I do study, asshole, a healthy amount because I don’t have some younger sibling inferiority performance complex. Also, I talk to him every day, he says hi.” 

Sasuke clicks his tongue, the dumpling’s skin tearing as he picks it up. “Does he?” he deadpans. Gaara’s contempt for him might be the world’s worst-kept secret.

“Well, no. But I could tell that he wanted me to relay the message to you.” The blond reaches over and pops a piece of his rival’s dinner into his mouth. “Why the hell do you need to study half the day when you have a photographic memory?”

“Mind your business,” the raven-haired man commands, knowing well enough that Naruto would, in fact, not mind his own business.

“How are you?” the Mayor’s son asks him one day, randomly walking into his room with a large plant his redheaded boyfriend had sent him the month before the quarantine mandate was passed.

“No.”

“What?” Naruto sets the foxtail agave in the corner of Sasuke’s well-lit room by the west-facing window.

“What?”

“I asked how are you and you said no.” The blond kneels down to inspect the plant’s bloom spike. “You bastard,” he curses beneath his breath, more at himself than at his roommate.

“Konoha’s bar exam has the lowest pass rate of all the Five Nations, at twenty-percent. Only ten-percent of first-time test taskers receive their license to practice law,” replies Sasuke, his voice speaking over the medical school vlogger’s gentle muttering as she recites variations of hematologic cancers to herself.

“I know I’ll pass,” Naruto states, confident and absolute. The Uchiha doesn’t doubt this, either; his best friend has always gotten by, if not by immaculate work ethic at times, then at least by insurmountable belief. “I’m not aiming for the ninety-fifth percentile.” He nods at the succulent’s silvery leaves, satisfied with its new location. “More importantly, do I hear a woman’s voice?” The blond hovers over Sasuke’s shoulder scandalously, scanning over the medical student’s form as she bounces from leg to leg and balances a mechanical pencil behind her ear. “Is this your kink? Twelve-hour long study videos? Not shaming you, obviously, if that’s what you like, I mean, me and Gaara have done some weird shit.”

“Shut up.” Sasuke nudges Naruto away with his shoulder, the back of his neck heating up. “Itachi suggested I watch one to help me focus.”

“Who even watches these?” The blond drags his fingers across the trackpad, scrolling to see the woman’s subscriber count. “Well, you’re one of … three, so at least you’re not alone.”

“She’s the only vlogger who matches my study schedule,” the raven-haired man retorts, blocking his roommate’s view of the screen. “Get out.”

“Happy you found someone who’s a bigger narc than you,” the whiskered man chides, then leaves Sasuke to memorize his outlines.

A week out to the national licensing exams, the medical vlogger posts her final video. The Uchiha plays it as he furiously types away at a timed-essay question; Naruto, in a display of his inability to mind his own business, disturbs him. “Not to be weird, but I watched one of her videos and I get it,” the blond says. “She’s cute, she works out, her hair is pink. Her name is Haruno Sakura, like a main character in a shoujo manga.” Not acknowledging his best friend’s outburst, Sasuke resumes his typing. “Anyway, turns out she knows Gaara’s brother, Kankuro. He was one of her first patients, you know, when they visited us and he had to go to the hospital because he got food poisoning from that gas station sushi that you refused to try with us? So I looked her up and found her on social media and saw we have even more mutuals. Hey, did you know we all went to university together? On different tracks, but--”

“Why are you so obsessed with me? And this girl? Obsess over bar prep, dumbass.”

“Because I’m your friend!” The blond claps him on the back. “Your best friend.”

Sasuke scoffs. “You’re going to fail, with that attitude.”

“If I fail, I’ll just take it again,” Naruto boldly proclaims. “Plus, maybe Gaara will hate you less when you get a girlfriend or boyfriend or partner or house pet.”

* * *

Sasuke arrives at the testing center approximately one hour early, dragging a half-asleep Naruto behind him. “Am I at the right facility?” a familiar voice inquires of a man that Sasuke presumes to be security as the duo nears the metal detectors.

“No.”

A shuffling of papers and a beat. “I see,” the voice replies, bubbly but with poorly disguised menace, “you’re fucking around with me before the singlemost important examination of my entire life, that determines whether I will be able to save human lives in the future. That’s really _cute_.” The guard chuckles nervously in response.

Sasuke goes to place his wallet in a plastic bin. When he looks up, he sees his rival staring at the figure in the distance, mouth agape. “Dude,” the blond says, “it’s the girl. From the video.”

The Uchiha pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to quell his growing annoyance. “What are you talking about?” He understands too late.

“Sakura-chan! Wait up!” Naruto rushes them through the metal detector, chasing after the retreating woman.

She blinks at him curiously, most of her face hidden by her petal pink surgical mask. More than her signature fringe, Sasuke recognizes her from the slight tilt of her head, which she does when she’s mentally working through a problem. “Do I know you?”

“Yes,” the blond blurts out, “kind of. You treated my boyfriend’s brother, Kankuro.”

The medical student doesn’t hesitate, jade eyes glistening with warm recognition. “Oh, yes! I remember. From Suna, right?”

“Yeah, thanks for taking care of him! I’m Uzumaki Naruto, by the way.” His best friend pauses, then adds, “And this is Uchiha Sasuke.”

Sasuke imagines that Sakura worries her bottom lip before she answers. “Aren’t you the Hokage’s son?” But her gaze rests on the Uchiha, who towers above her quietly.

“I am,” Naruto says. “Love your study vlogs, by the way. Big fan.”

“You watch -- I mean, thanks! My roommate told me I was insane for studying twelve hours a day, but I feel better now.” For a moment, her demeanor darkens. “Ino-pig.” The Uchiha hits the up button at the elevator bank with his elbow. “Nice to meet you, Uzumaki-san,” she says, bowing her head a little as they step onto the lift, “Uchiha-san.”

“I think it’s awesome how you work out at the beginning! My boyfriend is always nagging me to do more cardio.”

Sakura’s laughter, true to her name, is like a spring breeze. “I prefer strength-training, myself. It’s difficult with local gyms closed, though.”

“Yeah, my boyfriend shipped a yoga mat and some weights along with a pull-up bar to me--”

“Hey,” the medical student teases, “do you have a boyfriend? You didn’t mention.” Sasuke lets out an amused sound while Naruto scratches the back of his head sheepishly. 

“What floor?” the Uchiha asks, facing the young woman, their eyes meeting for the first time.

She looks away, brows sloping downward. “7A, thank you.” He presses the button besides the already lit 7B and leans back against the elevator railing.

“Well,” Sakura chirps, the corners of her eyes wrinkling pleasantly as she turns to step onto her floor, “best of luck on your first day of testing!”

“See you later,” Sasuke says as Naruto holds his foot out to prevent the door from closing. “Sakura.” Her eyes widen with surprise, rosette locks seemingly bristling with surprise. As Sasuke’s mask hides his smirk, he’s sure that hers hides her blush. Their eyes lock again, but this time she doesn’t look away.

“Same time tomorrow!” Naruto yells as he withdraws his leg and the elevator doors close dramatically. “Well, what do you know, bastard?”

“I know that you’re insufferable.”

“That’s a funny way of saying thank you.” The Uchiha rolls his eyes. “Seriously, I’ll see you later? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Ah,” Sasuke intones, “there’s always tomorrow.” He remembers the curve of Sakura’s brow and her long, straight lashes and thinks, one day, he’ll be able to count the freckles scattered across her cheekbones.

* * *

Sakura examines the shriveled leaves of the potted plant disdainfully, taking one in between her fingers. “Well, I don’t know what to say.” She gives a gentle squeeze, met with no resistance from what should be the plant’s turgid composition. “You fucked up.”

“Is there anything you can do?”

She shoots a sour look over her left shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, you’re a doctor!”

“You’re right, Naruto,” she snarks, “I’m a medical doctor, not a botanist or a miracle worker. Sheesh, what did you do, dump a bottle of water on this literal cactus every day for two months straight?”

The blond’s guilty silence tells her enough. “Two bottles,” Sasuke comments as he joins the two in his room, the fabric of his athletic wear sticking to his back, still damp from his evening run. “The idiot comes in to water it twice a day.”

“Two whole motherfucking bottles? For fuck’s sake, Naruto!” She figures her outrage at Naruto’s plant-related maltreatment is a likely product of her friendship with Ino, who would throw hands with the Hokage’s son if she were to see the state of Naruto and Gaara’s “love plant.”

(“Sasuke-kun, why would they choose a cactus to represent their love?”

“You haven’t met Gaara.”)

“I don’t know when the two of you started teaming up against me, but I don’t like it.” Naruto carries the corpse of the cactus out of the room in his arms, exasperation written across his face.

Alone with Sasuke, she feels the blood rush to her cheeks. “Sorry for being in your room so late, Naruto called me over.”

“You can stay.” He holds up a translucent plastic bag in her direction. “I got you a toothbrush.” 

“Then where would Sasuke-kun sleep?”

The Uchiha shrugs, cool and nonchalant. “Find out.” The upper corner of his mouth curls, though, as if to challenge her.

The next morning, he peers at her from the corner of his eyes as he changes into a new shirt. For a moment, they relax in silence. “Twenty-two,” Sasuke remarks abruptly.

“Hm?” She rubs the sleep from her eyes and yawns.

He brushes her bangs away from her forehead with the knuckle of his index finger. “It’s nothing, Sakura.” The lawyer smiles to himself, as if reveling in a personal joke. 

A curtain of Sakura’s pink hair spills over the black fabric of his comforter, still tangled from the night before. These are the things she has: three subscribers on her video channel; sixteen-hour long shifts at the hospital; FaceTime with the recently engaged Ino and Sai on Sunday mornings; a new toothbrush sitting on Sasuke’s nightstand. And the things she cherishes: Sasuke’s secret smile; the width of his shoulders, which hunch over when he’s embarrassed; the way he rises with the Sun each day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trashy fic drop because fanfic is supposed to be as fun, dumb, and trashy as you want it to be. If you have a dumbass sense of humor like me, this is for you. Enjoy!

Thirteen days. Sasuke marks them off on his calendar: the amount of days he, and by proxy, Sakura are able to successfully evade Naruto’s good-for-nothing-rent-evading-skank boyfriend after he comes to visit from Suna post-quarantine. Sasuke runs through escape room scenarios as he sits across from Naruto’s redheaded, freeloading partner over one over-spiced and overcooked bowl of katsu curry. Sakura, straining to be polite about the dish in front of the apartment’s new addition, grips his knee beneath the table.

“Isn’t this great? Gaara’s cooking is the best, you know!” Naruto gushes, just short of licking his own bowl clean. “I’m so lucky.”

“Mm,” his girlfriend gags into her napkin, hiding her well-known hatred of spicy food, poorly -- to Sasuke, at least. Sakura had been Naruto’s leverage in arranging the dinner, going behind his best friend’s back to set a date and time. He doesn’t doubt that she’s regretting the decision now. “Yes… so lucky. So lucky,” she says, focusing mostly on, Sasuke presumes, not throwing up.

“So lucky,” repeats Sasuke, deadpan, and she clutches his thigh painfully, out of spite.

“Yeah, so lucky!” the blond exclaims, looking very much like a literal ray of sunlight beside his dreary companion. Gaara does not cease his hostile staring competition with Sasuke as he enjoys his meal. 

The lawyer’s eye twitches, trying hard not to blink. He refuses to be bested at his own dinner table.

They sit in uncomfortable silence, but for Sakura’s gagging, for a long time. When the doctor has scraped the sauce off of all her vegetables and successfully eaten around the spice, she clears her throat. “So,” Sakura says, looping her fingers through his for support, “where did you two meet?”

“Uh, we met in the spring,” blurts Naruto. “Yeah.” A rosy blush grows across his cheeks.

“That’s not an answer, idiot,” Sasuke replies.

“Answer the question, Naruto,” she commands. Sakura tilts her head towards Gaara. “Gaara, where did you two meet?”

“A hotel,” the stoic redhead answers, heavily lined eyes boring into Sasuke’s.

“Oh, that makes sense! Were you two traveling at the same time?”

“Yeah, Sakura-chan,” the blond, now recovered, jumps in, “we were both in Ame, our first and last trip there. Our rooms were right next to each other, so we bumped into each other in the hallway.” He grins. “It was love at first sight.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes. “When did you go to Ame? I don’t remember this.”

“It was when you were on your eat, pray, love trip to Oto,” Naruto says. Sakura catches his obvious sideways glance. The doctor’s eyes narrow visibly at the mention of Oto, but she doesn’t comment on it.

Sasuke is going to kill his rival -- with a frying pan or with his bare fists. Either will suffice.

“It was May, two years ago,” Gaara explains. “Sasuke had been in Oto for approximately a year. Naruto was very upset.”

Sakura frowns. “Hm, I visited Ame two years ago for a research conference, actually. Think there’s any overlap? I stayed at The Waterfront.”

“That’s exactly where we met, Sakura-chan!”

“I had to share a room with my co-fellow because the rest of the rooms were booked for -- guess what -- a furry convention, of all things.”

Sasuke looks at his girlfriend blankly, breaking eye contact with their guest. “What’s a furry?”

Naruto visibly freezes; Gaara blinks.

“They’re people who like to dress up as animals. They have fursonas, their furry personas.” Sakura’s meaningful gaze sweeps over the couple across from them. “I think it’s a huge sex thing. Like, they really get off on it.”

“Interesting. Itachi mentioned that Naruto had attended a conference at The Waterfront once, while I was away.”

His girlfriend smiles at him and squeezes his hand twice. “You’ve only been to Ame once,” she addresses Naruto, “and all of the rooms were booked. Guests were arranged in sections, by the event they attended that weekend, which means…” The pink-haired woman stops short of delivering the obvious conclusion and looks at the blond expectantly.

“Sakura-chan?”

Her smile widens. “I want to hear you say it.”

A pin drops in the apartment next door. They hear it.

“Well?”

“Okay so, it’s  _ not _ just a sex thing, it’s a _community_ of like-minded people who all work really hard,” Naruto says, defensively, “right, babe?”

Unperturbed, Gaara takes his boyfriend’s hand. “Naruto is a furry,” the redhead says plainly. “And so am I.”

* * *

“Gaara, say one nice thing about Sasuke.”

“You’re Naruto’s best friend.”

“That doesn’t count! Try again.”

“... you’re Sakura’s boyfriend.”

“I’ll allow it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you to the lovely CatFlorist for inspiring the "photographic memory" line here. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
